Chasing After The Wind

Was May (I believe) when all things froze anew—
For better or not. You see, we all grew
Accustomed to our place here; we thought—for decent enough reasons—
That nothing could stop. we saw it in the pattern of the seasons,
That rhythmic repetition which seemed to promise permanence.
Permanence, yes, but not—as we learned—for us.

It started innocently enough, people just need
To improve their position. But those who did succeed,
Who had the most to lose, became blind
to everything around them—even when the chill wind
was reshaping it all. There was no
Love, none you could see beneath the snow.

Greed was the catalyst—the thing that was able, in the end,
to bring a species to it's collective knees—that and
Fear. Greed made the land cold, but
Fear kept the sun forevermore tightly shut
away from the stony masses striving in vain
to warm ourselves from inside with our strain.